


Her Eyes Could Tame The Sea

by LilWordWeaver



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Marvel Cinematic Universe Fusion, F/M, Marvel Universe, Superfamily (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2020-03-05 16:57:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18832837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilWordWeaver/pseuds/LilWordWeaver
Summary: Based in the MARVEL Cinematic Universe, but with a few twists. Takes place after Civil War and in an alternate universe where the events of Ragnarok never happened; Odin still leads Asgard, Loki never faked his death in Dark World and was instead cautiously allowed to remain free for helping to defend the 9 realms, but always under the watchful eye of Heimdal and the Allfather. Frigga is still dead and Loki suffers tremendous guilt over the part he played in her death, constantly battling his demons, wandering without much direction. Thor is still visiting Earth on and off to help the Avengers and occasionally Loki tags along to help out, albeit grudgingly. This is where YOU come in!





	1. Shadows Of A Memory

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first Fanfiction, let alone an interactive fanfiction. I have always had a strong love of the MCU and a soft spot for villains seeking redemption so I hope you find this intriguing. Let me know what you think and if you have any requests or ideas! I'll do my best to post as often as I can until completion.

     

     He watched the fire burn from the shore, the roaring of the far off waterfall filling the otherwise solemn silence of the night. Mourners crowded along the beach line, tears falling into the white sands as candles flickered in shaking hands. He glanced down at his own candle, the flame dancing on the end of the wick as hot wax dripped down the sides and burned the palm of his hands, but he relished the pain, little as it was. She was dead because of him. It may not have been his hand to take her life, but it might as well have been. Because of his arrogance and stubborn pride, the only person he loved, the only woman he had ever cared for, was dead. He wished deep in his heart, that it was him instead.

     Months had passed since the mass funeral for all of those that had died in the battle with the Dark Elves, people seemed to have moved on, Asgardians worked together as never before to repair the near fallen city, to move on and rebuild their lives; and yet there was one that could not. He often spent time in the dungeons of the palace, sitting in silence in the cell he had once occupied. The dungeon itself was empty, quiet and seemingly forgotten beneath the gilded halls above, but to one man to which this place had once been a prison, it had now become a sanctuary.

     He rested his head against the hard white wall, locks of his long black hair falling to the sides of his pale and gaunt face. His normally pale skin looked practically translucent in the bright light of the cell, his sharp cheek bones more pronounced and once luscious black hair now dull and unkempt; grief had that effect on a man. He waved his hand and once more the scene played before him. A shadow of himself, while prisoner inside the cell, interacted with the illusion of a fair-haired woman dressed in elegant silver and blue robes; she stood proud and regal though the pain in her sapphire eyes shone evident as the sun.

     "HE'S NOT MY FATHER!" Shadow-Loki yelled.

     The memory of Frigga never so much as flinched, looking the illusion of Loki right in the eyes as she spoke "And am I not your mother?" she asked softly.

     "You're not." Shadow-Loki responded.

     The real Loki, still propped against the wall, mouthed the words just as his past-self spoke it, watching as he broke Frigga's heart, though she let out a hollow laugh, to hide her own pain. He had replayed that one scene so many times, day after day, torturing himself with the mistakes of his past as penance for his guilty actions. But no matter how much he tormented himself, no matter how often the daggers of his hurtful words stabbed into his frozen heart time and time again, his suffering would never be enough. Death was too easy and yet no punishment devised could make up for what he had done. He waved hand and watched as he broke her heart all over again... and again... and again.

     He couldn't remember falling asleep, the sound of heavy steps approaching jerked him awake; green eyes blinking rapidly in an effort to adjust to the blinding bright light illuminating the small cell. The shimmering barriers of his prison faded as a tall man walked through, stopping just on the edge of the steps to the cell. Loki knew who it was but he could neither find the will to speak or look at him.

     "Brother..." was all the man said, his normally booming and boisterous voice reduced to barely a whisper.

     When Loki didn't respond, the man cleared his throat and walked over, leaning against the same white wall, just a few feet away, and let himself slide down to the floor. They sat like that for a long while, Loki didn't bother keeping track of the time anymore. After what felt like hours, the blond-haired man beside him sighed, breaking the silence.

     "Loki, you cannot stay down here much longer," Thor paused and waited for his brother to speak, when it became apparent that Loki had no intentions of engaging in conversation, Thor continued, "You need to leave this all behind and find a way to move on, brother. I grieve for her loss too but-"

     "Do you know what the last thing I said to her was?" Loki croaked, his voice dry and strained from lack of use. From beside him, Thor shook his head, eyes firmly glued on watching Loki as he continued, "I told her she wasn't my mother."

     This would normally have been the time when Thor would go on about how Loki didn't mean it, about how it wasn't his fault and he needed to move on, but instead he remained quiet, patient. After a few moments of silence it appeared that Loki was done with the conversation. Thor sat beside his brother and grieved with him in silence. Hours must have passed in this quiet manner before Thor finally stood and, without another word, exited the cell and left the dungeon, and Loki, behind.

     Loki looked around the barren dungeon, the shimmering gold barrier of the cell still gone from when his brother had intruded on him. He lifted his hand to once more replay the last encounter he had had with Frigga, the illusions of both he and the Queen standing still, waiting to put him through the torture of breaking her heart yet again, but something stopped him. With surprisingly more difficulty than he would have thought, he brought himself to his feet, wobbling slightly and head spinning from lack of nourishment and movement. On shaky feet he approached the image of Frigga, the last memory he had of her. Her bright blue eyes hinted at the unshed tears she held back, the wrinkling of her forehead and grim set to her lips spoke of a thousand emotions, but the one that stood out most to Loki in that moment was her unconditional love for him.

     All his life Loki had been brought up to believe he was destined for greatness, burdened with glorious purpose, but he had never really known what that purpose was. He had always known that as the oldest, Thor would one day rule Asgard, but even then he had hoped. When Odin had revealed Loki's true heritage, it not only removed all possibility of him ever becoming king of Asgard, but it took away what remained of the only identity he had ever known. He was no longer a prince of Asgard, son of Odin the Allfather and Queen Frigga. He was no one at all.

     But looking into the memory of how Frigga looked at him, not with pity as he had believed, but with the love of a mother, he remembered what it felt like to be her son. He remembered all the times he had spent learning magic and developing a love of literature with her, all the times she comforted him when he believed he had failed and encouraged him to pursue his own gifts. For a time they had been happy, all of them a family, and it was all because of her.

Loki flinched as he felt something warm trail down his cold cheek. He chased the sensation with a trembling hand and glanced down at his fingers to see a tear glistening on the end of a long thin finger. A breath hitched in his chest as his heart painfully constricted, twisting and knotting as if trying to fill some empty space within his narrow sternum. A small whimper escaped him as he closed his eyes, more tears streaming own his cheeks. He knew deep in his heart that there was no way to undo the past, no way to save Frigga now, but he also knew that she wouldn't want him to let himself waste away and suffer as he was. She would want him to accept the past and forge himself a new future.  
He pressed his hand to his mouth, the moisture of his tear soaking into the space between his thin lips, the subtle taste of salt heavy on his tongue as he kissed the memory of his mother goodbye.


	2. Wild Ride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here we introduce your reader-character and give you a little background. There will be filler content so you can customize yourself a little (ie: Hair color, eye color, skin color and of course your name!) Warning that this chapter will include graphic description of violence and some colorful language. I apologize now if I change perspectives (1st to 3rd person) mid chapter, I'm still getting used to this!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave me a comment on what you think! I can only improve with your help and honesty!

 

    _Finally! Fresh air!_ You thought with criminal glee, sucking in a deep breath of the crisp midnight air, your (h/c) whipping around your face as you continued to speed through traffic. You ignored the blare of honking horns and shouts from indignant drivers as you weaved through the sluggish line of taxis and fancy cars filling the wide New York streets; your newly  _acquired_  motorcycle more than capable of handling the sharp turns and high speeds you put it through. The sound of sirens pierced the air. You didn't have to look behind to know that they were for you, a devilish smile crossing your painted lips as adrenaline spiked through your veins. Oh how you missed this.

     It didn't take long for the congested city to erupt into chaos as the string of law enforcement vehicles trailing behind you grew into a posse that contained what seemed like the entirety of New York's finest. You weren't bothered in the slightest at all the attention, far from it. Your pulse pounded through your body at nearly the same breakneck speed at which you raced through the streets, breaking the normal midnight hustle and bustle at the city that never slept. You spared a glance up at the night sky, more than a little disappointed at the lack of moonlight and stars; the thick clouds overhead blocking the light of the full moon and the unceasing lights of the city crowding out the gentle twinkling lights of millions of stars overhead.

     Little hairs on the back of your neck stood on end as a shiver ran down your spine. You looked back at the road just as something appeared on the crosswalk several yards ahead, the air catching in your chest as you gasped and clutched at the breaks of the motorbike. The smell of burnt rubber stung your nose, the sound of squealing breaks deafening as you tried to break before you hit whatever it was blocking the street. You squeezed your eyes shut, the anticipation of the impending impact nearly stopping your racing heart as the motorcycle began to wobble precariously beneath you in attempts to stop. Nothing happened. You gingerly opened one eye, glancing at the motorcycle beneath you, your gloved hands gripping the handlebars and motor purring gently. Opening the other eye, you stared ahead of you, the billowing cloud of dust and engine smoke thinning to reveal a fat orange cat sitting surprisingly relaxed on the black and white crosswalk not two yards ahead of you. You stared wide eyed at the small creature, heart pounding in your chest, and let out the breath you hadn't realized you had been holding.

     The cat meowed and looked at you, its bright green eyes meeting your (e/c) ones. It slowly blinked once before suddenly darting down the remainder of the sidewalk and disappearing into the nearby ally. You closed your eyes a moment and sighed heavily, your heartbeat finally beginning to return to normal, that is until you once again registered the sound of sirens approaching from behind you. With a groan, you kicked the motorcycle back into gear and lurched forward, speeding away once more down the street, only now the high of the adrenaline rush from before was gone, leaving you shaky and nervous as you began looking for somewhere to lie low.

     Not more than two minutes after you nearly committed feline-murder, the thumping sound of a helicopter overhead filled the air, a blinding bright light illuminating the space around you as the searchlight gave away your position. What began as a wild night out suddenly got a little more serious. You were going to need to shake this tail before you wound up the recipient of a pair of shiny new bracelets and an orange jumper. You weren't a fan of jewelry and orange was a less than flattering color on you.

     You took a sharp left turn onto a street off the main drag, successfully loosing the unwanted halo, but it wouldn't be gone for long if you couldn't find a way to disappear. A few more sharp turns down unfamiliar streets and the sound of sirens died off behind you. A quick glance at the dim sky above, glancing as you could through the impossibly tall structures crowding the city, told you that you had finally managed to lose the helicopter as it flew around aimlessly in the opposite direction, searchlights swiveling uselessly in all directions but yours. Dropping your speed down to the legal limit, you did your best to blend into the dwindling traffic around you, still searching for a place to hide out for a while. The rapid beat of your heart and the waning energy in your limbs begged for a chance to relax until all the noise died down and the police gave up.

     For the first time since loosing the cops you had a chance to look around at where you had actually ended up, the sight sending shivers down your spine. The crumbling and dilapidated buildings around you certainly explained the lack of traffic in this area. Regardless of what time it was, New York was always busy; cars and people filling the streets at all hours, but there were almost no people wandering the streets in this area and less than a dozen cars lined the streets, most of which were headed in the opposite direction to you. The further into that desolate part of the city you ventured, the darker the city became as streetlights became few and far between, you couldn't help the paranoid feeling that crept up over you, the feeling that you didn't belong there.

     You wondered vaguely what had caused all of that destruction, but it didn't take long for you to find out why. Less than a mile away you recognized the impossibly ginormous shape of a S.H.I.E.L.D Helicarrier that had crashed into the city. It lay mostly on its side, sharp pieces of the broken vessel sticking out here and there among the debris of crushed buildings and broken bits from space ships. Man did that bring back unwanted memories. You remembered the complete chaos that had broken out on your college campus when the portals opened above New York and violent aliens swarmed down upon the city. You had been in Massachusetts attending Harvard at the time, but as a native New Yorker, you took the devastation left by the invasion personally. Soon after the Avengers had been able to fend off the attack, you dropped out of college and returned home, only to find that your family had been wiped out. Your mother had been trapped in the city during the first wave of attacks and was most likely dead, but her body had yet to be recovered. Your father had taken his own life just days before you had a chance to return home, his wife dead or missing and his successful contracting business destroyed in the attack. For the first time in a very long time, you had been completely alone. That was three years ago, a lot had changed, and so had you.

     You felt the first drop land on your left cheek before the sky finally opened, the cold rain drenching your long (h/c) hair and tight black jeans, making it hard to maneuver as you coasted along the cracked city street looking for a place to wait out the spring storm. You sighed and shivered, the thin leather jacket not enough to stave off the chill as the temperature steadily dropped. You glanced around desperately, looking for any kind of shelter, but in the destruction left by the battle with Loki's army, there wasn't much left standing. A flash of lightening split the sky and disappeared behind what was left of the fallen helicarrier not too far off, glancing around you saw no other options on the deserted streets. Revving the engine, you drove off in the direction of the crashed ship, hoping that by some miracle you would be able to find shelter within.

     It didn't take you long to reach the broken vessel, swerving through the debris and stowing the stolen motorbike beneath the slanted overhang of what looked like an old pizza shop, or what remained of one. The unceasing deluge overhead made the climb over fallen buildings and battle debris twice as treacherous as it normally would have been, luckily you were pretty graceful and strong for your size and the trek through the rubble didn't take long. You were thoroughly soaked down to the bone one you manage to slip past a caved in door and into the dangerously tilted vessel, much to your irritation. The angle at which the helicarrier had landed made walking on a balanced flat surface impossible, so rather than walking down the floor of what seemed to be a hallway, you instead teetered on the edge of where the floor and wall met, feet occasionally slipping and squeaking due to your rather drenched state.

     You wandered aimlessly through the derelict ship, your phones flashlight serving as your only source of illumination to guide you. You weren't really looking at anything in particular and were only vaguely interested in the vessels design and inner workings, though you doubted very much if anything worked were you to press buttons and flip switches so you kept your hands to yourself. Outside the storm raged on, lightening splitting the sky and thunder shaking the hull of the ship. You wandered into what appeared to be a cafeteria, utensils and trays strewn about the large room though most had slid down the floor towards the wall due to the angle of the ship. The room smelled of mold and rotten food and you swore you could hear the soft scuttle of tiny feet as rodents scampered away to hide from the beam of your light.

     A loud screech followed by the sound of a slamming door split the eerie silence and echoed throughout the ship. You weren't alone anymore. Heart suddenly in your throat, you frantically looked around for somewhere, anywhere to hide as the sound of heavy footsteps grew closer. You silently raced to the far end of the room from the entrance you had come through, ducking behind a busted counter that looked like it had been part of a serving line. You reached for the gun tucked into the back of your pants, releasing the safety and resting your index finger along the side of the trigger, not wanting to accidentally fire the weapon. With your luck you'd either injure yourself or give away your position, probably both. As the sound of footsteps grew louder you realized there was more than one person, by the sound of the echoes filling the hall, there had to be at least three. You quickly double checked the number of bullets you had; only five. You were going to have to make your shots count and hope there weren't more people than that coming your way. A quiet voice in the back of your head reminded you that there was more than that one gun at your disposal, but you quickly shook the thought away. There was  _no way_ you were going to use it, not again, not after what happened last time.

     Another door slammed shut and the low sound of whispering voices and shuffling feet just barely reached your ears. They were in the room with you.

     "Come on out kid, we know you're here," a deep voice echoed throughout the room, it sounded vaguely familiar but you couldn't place from where, "Come out slowly and we promise you won't be harmed."

    You waited, hoping in vain that they would think you weren't there and go away. It was a lost cause, "Hey! Get out here or you'll be in for some serious trouble if I have to tear this place apart to find you!" another voice shouted, much more irritated than the first and clearly less patient.

     "Tony! Don't scare the poor kid, she's probably scared enough as it is!" the first voice hissed.

     " _She's_ affraid? She just led the entire police force of Manhattan on a wild goose chase at over a hundred miles an hour!" the second voice argued.

     "Tony, I really don't-" the first speaker started to argue back but was interrupted.

     "Boys, now isn't the time." a woman's voice this time, she sounded mildly bored, like arguments between the first two speakers was a reoccurring theme.

     You took a chance to peek over the side of the counter but it was so dark you could just barely make out the shapes of three people, clearly two men and a woman. The tallest of the three, a man holding something round, stood in the middle of the room, something about the way he stood his ground demanded respect, but the second man standing by the entrance that you, and they, had come through clearly didn't give a shit. He was shorter than the first and surprisingly angular, his body disproportionately sized as he stood stiffly by the door, all of his limbs too wide and sharp, but somehow he looked familiar, even in the near blackness of the room.

     The woman, who stood closest to you was shorter than both men, long hair pulled back into a tight ponytail and gun in each hand held at the ready as she faced away from you and towards the other two, still arguing on the other side of the room. Your eyes flickered to the only entrance and exit to the room, the other on the opposite side of the cafeteria where the ceiling had collapsed in on itself and rubble littered the floor rendering it impassable. A tingling sensation ran its way up your spine as goosebumps spread up your arms. You turned back around only to have your heart stop completely as you stared into large slanted white eyes barely a foot from your face. You shrieked and pulled the gun up, firing twice at the now empty space in front of you, the sound of gunfire echoing around the room and your heart beating in your throat. Hands covered in red tried reaching for your gun but you held on, kicking your leg out and making contact with something hard, the impact of the kick sending spikes of pain of your leg.

     "Shhh! I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you!" a frantic voice apologized. It sounded like a voice still struggling with puberty and you were momentarily confused.

     You looked around for the source of the voice and saw the two men and woman from before run towards your hiding spot. You looked back at where the white eyes had been and nearly swallowed your tongue as you found yourself once again face to face with those eyes. This time you noticed the red of the suit just before the white-eyed mask was swiftly removed to reveal the face of a kid not much younger than yourself, his dark brown eyes soft and apologetic as he held his hands up nervously.

     "Put the gun down!" the voice of the second man shouted, though this time it sounded strange and distorted and  _much_ closer.

     You chanced a look behind you and saw the unmistakable red and gold of Iron Man's suit, glowing blue eyes glaring at you from mere yards away. Beside him stood the taller man, the light of Iron Man's mask and glowing palms lit up the red, silver and blue of what could only be Captain America's shield as he stood with his fists up and feet apart, ready to knock you into next year. Your heart had officially stopped. You didn't even have to look to finally see who the woman was, her gorgeous red hair pulled tight into a pony tail and standing tall in her skin tight black cat suit... two guns pointed squarely at your chest. 

The Avengers were here to kick your ass.


	3. Lost Relics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a continuation of the last chapter in which you will have brief interactions with a few of the Avengers. Mostly this is an informational chapter to give you and idea of your characters intense background, but only a taste for now. You find yourself faced with memories of your past you thought were long gone and now a decision as to your potential future must be made. What will you choose and is it worth the risks?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am still getting used to this so if there are errors (of which I am confident there are many) please don't hesitate to let me know in the comments! I can only improve with your help!

     Heart in your throat, you glanced around trying to assess the rather sticky situation you had found yourself in. Who knew that taking a little joyride could get you into so much trouble, certainly more than you had bargained for. Taking a deep breath you raised your hands defensively in front of you, your (e/c) eyes flickering nervously between each Avenger in turn, hoping you looked relatively harmless. You slipped the safety to the gun back in place and looped a finger through the trigger guard, stretching your arm out in front of you waiting for someone to take the weapon. Captain American gingerly took possession of your gun, placing in an empty holster at his waist. Your skin crawled at the feeling of being naked and exposed after rendering yourself unarmed. An uncomfortable silence settled over the large space in the crumbling cafeteria as everyone held their breaths, waiting for someone to make a move.

     You weren't a fan of awkward silences and the tension in the room was so thick you could cut it with a dull knife.

     "What's your name kid?" the man in the Star-Spangled spandex asked, successfully breaking the stifling silence.

     You gulped nervously, not sure how much you wanted to reveal to them. They were strangers, heroes and good guys, but that didn't necessarily mean anything to you. Good guys didn't always stay that way around you once they learned the truth and even your name could get you into trouble. You were still mulling over the potential consequences of giving yourself up and your chances of making a quick escape when the entrance to the cafeteria slammed open as another figure entered the room, long coat billowing around his feet as he strode confidently forward. The sound of heavy boots approaching was the only sound in the large room a tall black man with an eye patch walked to where the rest of you stood in a tense circle, his remaining eye scanning the room and quickly reading the situation with expert focus.

     "Fury." Iron Man greeted in a mock salute, his mask opening to reveal the slightly agitated face of billionaire, playboy, philanthropist; Tony Stark.

     "Avengers." the black man nodded, crossing his arms. He stood, feet apart and posture surprisingly relaxed given the current situation. His brow furrowed as he looked at you with his one good eye, staring at you intently for just a moment as the gears turned in his head. You didn't know who this man was, but if the famously arrogant and controlling Tony Stark would deffer to this man, than you were royally fucked.

     "Kid, are you trying to get everyone you love killed?" the man called 'Fury' asked, eye still intently taking you in though the question was not directed at you.

     "Oh, sorry Mr. Fury sir! I accidentally scared her and I-" the brown-haired boy behind you started to explain, voice stumbling over the words in a hurry to explain himself. He was abruptly silenced by a quick glance from Fury, eye glaring rather viciously at the red-suited boy.

     Someone cleared their throat, successfully earning the attention of the tall one-eyed man, "No disrespect Director, but why are you here? Why are  _we_  here?" the woman asked as she holstered one gun, the other remaining at the ready by her side, finger resting along the trigger guard, "I don't see this kid being all that dangerous  _or_  all that remarkable, so why put us on her trail?"

     Your heart all but stopped in your chest, blood draining from your cheeks at what you heard.  _They knew_! Somehow S.H.I.E.L.D. had figured it out and they had finally come for you. Suddenly you really wished you still had that gun. Three bullets was better than none. You felt your body tense as you instinctively prepared for a fight, hands balling into fists and eyes shifting between the five Avengers before you, mind buzzing as you assessed your chances and developed an escape plan. No sooner had a plan begun to form in your mind before all preparations came to a screeching halt.

     While you had been distracted in your own mind, Fury had pulled something out of his pocket, something you hadn't seen in  _years_ , something you never thought you would see again. Dangling off the end of his long finger was a small charm bracelet, the watery blue beads and ocean charms dancing in the dim light before your eyes. Heart in your throat, you slowly walked towards the man, hands reaching out to grab the bracelet. Just as your finger brushed against the cool beads, Fury snatched his hand away, stowing the bracelet securely in the deep pockets of his leather trench coat. Tears pricked at the back of your eyes as the heat of anger blushed your cheeks. 

     "Where did you get that?" you demanded, all fear and caution from before gone with the wind. Now you were pissed.

     "(y/n) (l/n)." he stated, your name rolling off his tongue far too familiarly, goosebumps prickled up your skin uneasily.

     "She died three years ago when New York fell. That woman doesn't exist anymore." you growled darkly.

     Fury shrugged his shoulders, "Well than I guess you won't be wanting this?" he taunted, once more dangling the charm bracelet before you.

     You snatched the bracelet from his hand. He let it go without a fight, glancing sideways at the confused expressions on the assembled Avengers nearby. The heroes looked questioningly at each other, each wondering what was going on, all except for he red headed woman. She looked on, both weapons now in their holsters as she stood with arms crossed, watching curiously at the exchange between you and the enigmatic S.H.I.E.L.D Director.

     You ignored them all, choosing to focus instead on the impossible item resting in your open palms, eyes inspecting each bead with wonder. You whimpered at the sudden emotion that washed over you, heart swelling painfully and lungs burning to release the sobs gathering painfully in your chest. You ran your thumb over the textured silver of a sea turtle bead before hesitantly turning over the large sea star charm to read the back. Carved in elegant letters onto the back of the charm were your parents, your  _real_ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~parents, initials.

     You didn't have many remaining memories of growing up and even fewer of your biological mother and father. You had been born in, and spent most of your life in New York where your mother was from, but you vaguely remembered what it was like living in a bustling coastal town in Northern New England. Your birth mother had gone camping with some college friends where she met your father in Maine. He was a young Marine fresh out of boot camp making the most of his last summer before shipping off overseas for the first time. He and some other young soldiers were camping on the same beach as your mother and her college friends. The two groups decided to hang out together and as a result, your parents spent the long days of summer getting closer. One thing led to another and nine months later, on May 15th, 1992, you were born. Your father was serving his country from afar when you were born and he didn't get to hold you for the first time until you had already begun walking. Against all odds, your parents stuck together, your mother choosing to drop out of college and move to Maine and raise you with your father's only living relatives, two grandparents you couldn't even remember. Your mother had grown up in the foster system and didn't have any family to speak of, at least not that you were aware.

     Of the few memories you had of your parents together, they were happy ones; days filled with love and laughter. But when your father was gone, sometimes years at a time, your mother struggled to keep things afloat, fighting her own personal war. She worked two jobs and stressed constantly over you, praying to whatever god she may or may not have believed in, that she was a good mother. It broke her heart when your father died. An IED explosion had destroyed the Humvee he and other members of his team had been transporting in, leaving nothing behind. Your mother had buried an empty casket and with it, a piece of her heart. She didn't stay in Maine much longer after that. With your father gone and your grandparents having passed some time before him, there was nothing left to keep her there, so she returned to New York hoping to start over again, somewhere familiar.

     She had tried, she really did, but depression was a hell of a thing. You were just barely in the third grade when the failure of yet another relationship took its toll on your mother. She was struggling in every way trying to get her life back together, and some vices were just too easy to give in to. Somehow she got caught up in drugs, trying something, anything to numb the pain, and within a few months she was gone, having overdosed on a bad batch of heroine. After that you were put in the foster system, tossed around from family to family with your little trash bag full of belongings, wishing that somehow that you would find safe harbor within the raging storm that had become your life. All that you had to remember either of them by was the very same ocean charm bracelet that now rested in your trembling hands, the one a four-year-old you had helped your father pick out to propose to your mother with instead of a traditional ring. They never did get married.

     Through all the different families you had bounced around for years before finally landing with the (l/n)'s, you had never once misplaced that bracelet. But you had intentionally left it at home when you went off to college so that it wouldn't get stolen, and when the city had fallen three years ago and your home for the last decade had been destroyed, you had thought it was lost forever.

     You didn't know when you had started crying, your memories having blinded you to your current reality as you continued to stand surrounded by strangers staring at you with mixed expressions of curiosity and concern, even irritation. You sucked in a shuddering breath, once more grounding yourself to the present and reassessing the situation at hand. There were only two things you were sure of in that moment: 1, Somehow that guy 'Fury' not only knew who you were but had gotten his weathered hands on your birth mothers bracelet, and 2, you had no idea what was going to happen next.

    "How did you find this?" you whispered, your gaze firmly locked on the weightless bracelet in your palms.

     You hadn't really expected him to answer you so you were surprised when he did,"During the clean up efforts throughout the city. I had been personally overseeing the group searching through the rubble of your home to try and find you. I don't think you need me to explain why; it's no secret the government keeps tabs on individuals they believe hold powers above a normal humans abilities, gifted people such as yourself." Fury explained plainly.

   You chuckled darkly. 'Gifted' was too kind a word for the curse that you lived with every day, the constant struggle to fight the power within you.

     "What do you want from me?" you asked, surprised by the strength in your voice, given your current tumultuous emotional state.

     Fury crossed his arms as he looked at you seriously, thoughts you couldn't read crossing his face before disappearing without a trace, "(y/n), I want to ask you about joining the Avengers Initiative."


	4. Chained

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is another informational chapter. I'm still trying to figure out what chapter lengths work best and how to get the information across effectively without boring you. Also, I was kind of brain dead and writing this just before midnight trying to get out another chapter since I hadn't released one in over a week. Sorry about that. Next chapter will be from Loki's perspective again although most of the series will be from the perspective of the reader, you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A surprising amount of Kudos and Bookmarks already! Thanks all for comments and giving me some love! I'm going to try to post a new chapter at least once a week, I've been swamped at work and trying to maintain a long distance relationship with some crazy hours so I apologize in advance if I am unable to keep up with your ravenous appetites. A girls got to sleep some time!

     You had never been on a plane before, let alone Stark's impressively designed Quinjet. It was surprisingly roomy, built with both function and elegance in mind. It was obvious Tony Stark had been in on the design, if the hidden mini bar was any indicator. You sat quietly, strapped into your seat with your cuffed hands resting useless on your lap as you marveled at the jets design, all the while fighting to avoid the six pairs of eyes watching you intently. Ten minutes after take off, Stark had sighed, apparently growing bored of watching you do nothing, and swiveled his chair around to refill his glass at the mini bar before reclining his seat to relax. The others watched you with varying levels of interest.

     It was painfully clear you were in deep shit. You hadn't given Fury the answer he wanted, in fact you hadn't given him one at all. In the heat of the moment you had let your emotions get to you, demanding instead that he explain himself; what he wanted from you and how he knew about you. His answer had come in the form of taking you into custody and clapping you in irons. Having refused to take a single step without answer, Captain America had been forced to carry you bridal style, much to your embarrassment, and according to the pinking of his cheeks, his discomfort. You didn't struggle much, not wanting them to think you were hostile and opt to knock you out. You knew they were going to take you in the moment Fury had shown up with the bracelet, you had planned all along to go with them, you just weren't about to make it easy for them.

     You glanced around the aircraft and accidentally locked eyes with the one Avenger who baffled you the most. Now that you had seen his face and no one had told him to cover up and he had apparently chosen to change into civilian clothes when Stark did; their suits retracting around their normal clothes and disappearing into devices they wore on their person. You silently marveled at the technology. You could tell that the boy was younger than you, probably still in high school. His brown eyes almost the same color as his hair and his still childlike face offering you a kind smile. You looked abruptly away, trying to look out the front of the plane but the still dark night sky offered you no relaxing view. Someone cleared their throat and you glanced back to see that the boy had unbuckled from his chair and migrated to the open one closest to you. Everyone's eyes left you to watch the boy as he moved, their bodies instantly more tense as he buckled himself into his new seat and turned it to face you directly, clearly oblivious of the protective stances of the other Avengers.

     "I'm Peter, its nice to meet you" he said with a comforting smile, reaching a hand out towards you before remembering yours were restrained and taking it back awkwardly.

     You looked at his kind eyes for a moment, not wanting to be rude, but somehow unable to think of a conversation to have with him. You opted instead to look away, eyes drawn to the goofy shirt he was now wearing since removing his Spidersuit. You actually liked the dorky shirt; a picture of a pizza pie chart with a couple slices removed and the words " _Pizza I have Eaten. Pizza I Will Eat"_ and the logo of a popular restaurant you had been to a hundred times. Who knew the kid was a local?  He looked a little dejected, taking your distraction as a refusal to respond, which it basically was. He smiled anyway, continuing to talk, probably in hopes of getting you to relax or simply out of his own nerves. It was clear he was new to the Team, the only innocent face among them, and for some reason you wanted to keep it that way. 

    "I just wanted to introduce myself and say how excited I am for you to join the Avengers! Well you might not want to just yet, I understand, Fury did arrest you after all," he babbled, "But I promise he's actually a cool guy, we all are! Actually why don't I introduce you to the Team?" He beamed with excitement as he continued without taking a breath.

     "That's Mr.Stark; he's the Iron Man and, I don't want to brag or anything, but he's basically my personal mentor, even made me a new suit!" he pointed to the now snoring man beside him, sunglasses covering his eyes even though it was midnight and the light inside the plane was dimmed to a comfortable level. 

     Peter then pointed to Captain America sitting up towards the front of the jet with his back to you, "That's Mr. Rogers, he was born like a long time ago and frozen in ice for like fifty years! Something like that, anyway I guess he punched Hitler like a million times. How cool is that?"

     "Then there's Hawkeye and Black Widow, but their real names are Clint and Natasha. I know they look pretty intimidating but they're actually pretty cool." he gestured to the Red head in the black catsuit, her seat turned to the side just enough that she could watch you out of the corners of her eyes while reading the tablet in her hands. The guy in the modern day Robin Hood get up lay back in his seat with his eyes closed, you couldn't tell if he was really asleep or faking it, most likely the latter. They were trained professionals after all. He hadn't been part of the group that tracked you into the fallen Helicarrier, instead having taken up a position outside in case apprehending you had gotten out of hand. You were kind of glad you hadn't started a fight, something about him told you that he wouldn't hesitate to take you out if you posed a threat to the others.

     "And then of course there's Director Fury, but I guess you know that already. There's more of us but not everyone could make it today, but I'm sure you'll get to meet them later once we get to the compound. It's really cool!" His excitement made it sound like he was talking about a birthday party instead of a lethal group of super heroes. It was surprisingly amusing.

     You had to fight the urge to roll your eyes. Peter seemed like a great kid, naive and innocent clearly, but if he said ' _cool'_ one more time, you were going to make a scene just to get knocked unconscious. You had lost count of how many times he had used the word ' _like'_ , but he was being nice to you and the only one bothering to try and make conversation, even if you didn't intend to talk back. Peter rambled on for a while longer about what it was like being an Avenger and how he was tired of being babied by the others but still super grateful to be a part of the team. After about twenty minutes you tuned him out, choosing instead to mull over your current predicament.

      It was clear Fury knew something about you, but exactly how much; you had no idea. There was no way he could know the truth, you had been so careful over the years, never letting anyone, not even your adopted parents, get too close. You had built up a defense to keep them safe and separated yourself from the truth, creating an entirely new persona in an effort to conceal the side of you that you feared most. Every now and then the undeniable desire to tap back into that power you had chained away would overcome you and you would give in, just a little in an effort to sate the desire within you. Unfortunately tonight had been one of those times you had chosen to give in, and look where you had ended up.

     You had been so buried in your own thoughts you hadn't noticed the Quinjet land until the bay doors lowered. A gush of fresh night air filled the cabin and you breathed it in, letting it fill your lungs as you prepared for what was to come. The Captain stepped in front of you and quickly helped you to remove your buckles as gestured for you to follow Director Fury who was already waiting on the helipad. As you exited the aircraft you looked around, trying to see if you could recognize your location. It was too dark to see very far but it was clear from the smell of the air and the distant outline of trees not too far off that you must have been somewhere in upstate New York, that and the flight had been less than an hour so that limited the options.

     "Welcome to the Avengers Compound, courtesy of your's truly." Stark drawled, taking one last swig of liquor before tossing the glass back to Hawkeye just exiting the jet. He glanced at the glass in his hands and dropped it like a mic at a concert, letting it shatter against the ramp of the aircraft before continuing his decent. Stark didn't seem to notice, or care, as he strode on across the roof of the compound, entering a waiting elevator ahead of Director Fury.

     The elevator ride was blessedly short, as big as the space was, with all those bodies stuffed inside it felt like a broom closet. Once the Elevator stopped, everyone but you, Stark and the Director exited. You had gone to step out and follow the others when Fury stretched his arm out in front of you, effectively halting your egress.

     "We need to talk." was all he said as he pushed a button on the panel. You could see Peter's welcoming smile falter as he watched the elevator doors close. For the first time since encountering the Avengers back in the crashed helicarrier, you felt truly fearful. You allowed a side glance at Stark to see he was leaning against the glass wall, arms crossed and sunglasses tucked into his suit pocket. Was it your imagination or were his eyes red? You chalked it up to his blatant alcoholism. Beside you Fury remained just as enigmatic as ever. When the doors opened they lead you down a wide, tile-floor hallway and directly into what looked like a meeting room, sitting you down before Fury promptly removed your shackles, depositing them on the table with a loud clatter that made you flinch. You absentmindedly rubbed your wrists, though you hadn't worn the cuffs long enough for them to have chaffed the skin. As the two men sat down; Fury at the head of the table and Stark in the chair directly across from you, you felt strangely exposed, your heart in your throat as your nerves got the best of you.

      "(Y/n), tell me about what happened summer of 2007?" Fury asked, his voice surprisingly gentler than you had expected.

     Your heart caught in your throat, beating hard enough for you to feel the racing pulse in your temples. The sudden build up of saliva in your mouth threatened to drown you if you didn't swallow, but somehow you couldn't force your body to comply, a painful lump forming in your throat. Fear coated your hands in a thin layer of sweat, you fought the urge to wipe the dampness off on your pants, not that it would have helped. You were in full on panic mode now and nothing could save you from the truth you had fought so hard to escape from. 

     He knew, and there was no running from it now.


	5. Big Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter we will return to Loki's point of view as he and Thor return to Earth for the first time since the Battle with the Chituari over New York. Tensions run high and Thor does his best to pacify the Avengers hatred towards his brother, will the new recruit further complicate the situation? Will Thor be able to keep the peace and fulfill his promise to the AllFather? Is redemption on the horizon, and for who?

Loki couldn't remember the last time he had stepped foot into the Bi-Frost chamber, yet the golden domed ceiling and activation platform had remained unchanged, as had the man now standing before him. His golden armor gleaned menacingly as he stood unmoving in the center of the room. Thor clapped a reassuring hand on Loki's ever-tense shoulders and stepped around him to approach Heimdall, whose glare never left where Loki stood with his head down as his eyes memorized the gilded pattern of the chamber floor.

"Heimdall my friend! I have a favor to ask of you." Thor started, his voice boisterous as he forced a smile across his face.

"I know that which you would ask of me, my Prince, and I regretfully must decline your request." Heimdall stated, his eyes tense as he glanced away from Loki and locked eyes with the taller man, a man he called his friend.

It was not a personal choice to deny the prince's request, Thor knew this in his heart, but at the same time he knew the path before him and had hoped Heimdall had foreseen as such. Thor glanced back at his brother, head hung low and eyes downcast, not even a shadow of the man he had been before remained and it pained Thor to no end to see his brother suffer, even if it was self inflicted. He hoped that by taking Loki back to Midgard, to the Avengers for a chance at repentance, he could ease the darkness that consumed his brother. If that did not work, he was at a loss at how to help the suffering man.

Thor sighed heavily, shoulders slumped as he locked eyes with his long time friend, "Heimdall, I would not ask this of you if it were not my last chance, perhaps my only chance to save Loki and bring peace. My father and many others believe him to be beyond saving, even he himself has given up, but I cannot. Surely you, more than anyone, can see the wisdom in this," Thor pleaded.

"The AllFather has forbidden me from allowing Loki to leave Asgard, under any circumstances Thor," Heimdall explained, then paused before continuing, "But you are right that this is the path that must be taken if Loki is to be freed from the madness creeping in."

Heimdall stepped aside and bowed his head to the blonde prince. Thor could have crowed with delight at the victory, but he contained himself with a broad smile, clapping his thick arms around the armored man and squeezing tight, the sound of stressing metal cutting through the din of the chamber. Thor ushered Loki towards the entrance of the Bi-Frost as Heimdall slid his broadsword into the control, a thunking sound echoing around the golden walls as the grinding of gears and clanging of machinery filled the silence. For the first time since entering the Bi-Frost chamber, Loki looked up and locked eyes with Heimdall, a softened look of pity and sympathy glowing behind those golden eyes. Loki was perplexed at their meaning but had no time to ponder it as Thor ushered him through the entrance to the Bi-frost and together they disappeared in a flash of brilliant light.

It seemed like an eternity since the last time Loki had walked Earthen soil, but in reality it had been less than three years, hardly the blink of an eye in comparison to the lifespan of an immortal god. As the last beams of the Bi-frost dissipated around them, the subtle scent that could only belong to Midgard, swirled in the air around them, mixing with the last lingering fumes of the place he once called home, but no more. He had done too much damage to have any right to call anywhere home. Loki stole a glance at the area around him, the well trimmed grass of the field they were in sloped gently towards a thick forest, the trees tall and green, swaying in the soft breeze. Closing his eyes, he breathed deep the scent of the greenery around him, finding the smallest bit of peace in the quiet. Back home on Asgard, Loki had lived his whole life in the palace, spending much of his time causing trouble of one kind or another in the surrounding city, rarely had he escaped to the countryside, having found it too rustic and uninteresting at the time. Now, he understood the appeal of living somewhere remote, where solitude and silence could be a welcome escape from the deafening noise of a crowded life.

A calm had begun to set over him when the all too familiar thundering voice of his brother broke through the silence, "Come brother!"

Rolling his eyes and sighing deeply, Loki turned and was momentarily shocked to see the break in the landscape before him. Where there were trees lining the edge of the field now behind him, before him stood the hideous outlines of a series of massive buildings, harsh angles jutting out to form the large complex structures. For a moment, Loki found himself perturbed at the sight, but his eyes scanning the architecture quickly found the reason for Thor's bringing him along. On one side of the largest building, the unmistakable sigil of the Avengers stood proud and evident as the sun. Now he understood.

Before venturing to the bi-frost, Thor had managed to usher Loki out of his stupor long enough to convince him that he had some big plan to make things right. Of course Loki doubted him, Thor's plans hardly ever worked out in  _his_ favor. However, Loki had to admit that he had allowed himself to become lost in his grief, and truthfully, he had mourned long enough. Nothing could be changed by his continued isolation and self torment. Maybe his brother was right, maybe exactly what he needed was do something instead of doing nothing, so he had followed Thor out of the dungeons, out of the palace and to wherever he would lead. If making amends was on his list of things to do before he were to meet his end, he would start with the person who loved him most and had never given up on him, even if it meant his own discomfort. Apologies did not come easily to the God of Mischief, but if anyone deserved it most, it was Thor. Time to swallow what was left of his pride and make things work with his brother.

Thor had spent the next ten minutes babbling on about his big plan as they approached the Avengers Compound. Loki was only half listening, his heart racing uncomfortably as the looming building cast its shadow over them, effectively blocking the sun from view. A feeling of trepidation washed over him, chilling the blood in his veins as he and Thor reached the largest of the buildings in the complex, the Avengers symbol directly overhead. Soft thumping was the only sound around the pair as their footsteps transitioned from the soft grass to very solid stone groundwork beneath their heavy boots. Thor reached out to open the pristine glass door before him, but before his fingers could brush the door handle, a light chime sounded and the door swung open, a woman's voice spoke from nowhere.

"Welcome back, Thor, God of Thunder. My name is FRIDAY, I will alert Mr. Stark to your arrival."

Thor smiled broadly at his brother and pointed to the now opening door before them, striding forward confidently. Loki sighed and followed the larger man through the doorway. Just as he entered the building an alarm rang out, echoing around the entire compound and cutting through the once serene silence of the hillside. Loki covered his ears and swung his head around wildly, searching for the source of the deafening alarms, lights flashing here and there along the walls. Shouts and footsteps were heard as the previously empty entryway became filled with security forces in black garb, guns raised and pointed directly at Loki, who was growing more irritated by the second. Thor stepped in front of his brother with arms raised, a smile still painting his face as he attempted to placate the soldiers before him. A quick count told Loki that there weren't really that many men, between he and Thor, they could easily take the forces assembled without many casualties. However, Loki had promised Thor that he would not fight, but if any of them made a move to harm his brother, promises or no, he would defend the only person remaining that he had any affection for. They were brothers after all.

"Thor?" a familiar voice shouted with surprise. A rather normal looking man breathlessly pushed his way through the crowd of black garbed agents and approached Thor with a smile, his curly silver-streaked hair looking disheveled, glasses askew as though he had run a marathon to greet them.

"Brother Banner!" Thor hollered joyfully as he pulled the smaller man into a tight hug. 

Dr. Banners eyes widened as he caught a glimpse of Loki over Thor's shoulder, and he struggled momentarily to free himself of Thor's grip. Taking a moment to right himself, fixing his crooked glasses and pulling his shirt back down into place, Dr. Banner stepped back from the tall blonde man and pointed with an accusatory finger at Loki behind him.

"Thor, what the hell is he doing here?" Dr. Banner asked, staring at Thor with confusion.

The God of Thunder sighed and stepped aside, ushering Loki forward to stand beside him, clapping an arm reassuringly on his shoulder, "Brother Banner, I have brought Loki back to Midgard to make peace with the Avengers and join our cause!" 

Both Loki and Dr. Banner looked at Thor as if he had two heads, mouths agape and eyes wide with surprise, _t_ _his_ was Thor's big plan?


End file.
